The purple-clad maiden was ethereal and luminous, enveloped in a thin veil of mist, her sleeves fluttering as sacred radiance cascaded around her, like a celestial fairy from the moon. Yet, upon hearing Little Rascal’s words, her composure shattered. Her jade-like face flushed with indignation—she simply couldn’t tolerate being called a “ferocious beast” every time they met.
Her bright eyes shimmered with divine brilliance as she bit her rosy lips lightly, glaring at him. She truly wished to give the brat a thorough beating, one that would leave him howling in pain.
“Where do you think you’re running, ferocious beast?!” Little Rascal sprang up with a whoosh, charging at her with excitement gleaming in his eyes.
Everyone gasped. This newly arrived pair—one young, one old—clearly had extraordinary origins. Yet here was the holy terror, fearless as ever, launching himself at them with reckless abandon.
“Shameless brat!” The purple-clad maiden, usually transcendent and untouchable, now carried a trace of mortal irritation. She couldn’t stand this child—every encounter with him was pure savagery.
With a hum, she flicked her slender fingers, unleashing a dazzling array of glyphs that surged forward like a rain of light, drowning the space before her. She had finally struck back.
Little Rascal let out a sharp cry, exhaling a mighty breath that transformed into a golden dragon, its radiance surging like a tempest, carrying countless golden symbols as it crashed forward.
In an instant, sand and stones flew, the howling winds deafening. The shockwave uprooted nearby trees and sent massive boulders tumbling into the sky.
Boom! The golden symbols shattered her glyphs, tearing through her bone-texture treasure techniques with overwhelming force.
The onlookers trembled. Just how terrifying was this brat? A single exhale carried such might—it defied reason!
The purple-clad maiden paled. Hailing from the ancient divine mountains, blessed with unparalleled talent and status, she recognized the sheer dominance and horror of this child.
He had indeed opened the Tenth Heavenly Passage, refining runes within and seizing the world’s essence without. Every movement was a supreme attack—even his breath carried powerful treasure symbols capable of sundering divine weapons.
“Ferocious beast, surrender! My cultivation is no weaker than yours now—no more wrestling, and I fear none of your treasure techniques!” Little Rascal taunted.
The maiden clenched her fists. The word “wrestling” was a sore spot, a memory from the Hundred Shattered Peaks that still made her want to scream.
She was a goddess in the eyes of countless prodigies, revered even by descendants of deities. Wherever she went, she was the center of adoration, bathed in divine halos.
Who would dare profane her? None could even approach her sacred jade-like skin, let alone touch it.
Yet this brat—this detestable, outrageous brat—had seized the chance in the Hundred Shattered Peaks, wrapping his arms around her neck, even biting her crystalline earlobe as they tumbled and wrestled like wild beasts.
It was a memory too shameful to recall. He was the black hand that ruined “goddesses.” If word got out, chaos would ensue—especially if it reached her homeland, where the geniuses of the divine mountains would gape in disbelief.
Thankfully, no one knew—yet.
Swish! A translucent divine horn appeared in the maiden’s hand. With a slash, she forced Little Rascal to yelp and dodge.
This horn was extraordinary—its light could cleave through bone-textures, striking with unpredictable precision.
“Ferocious beast, what is this? Trying to force me into close combat?” Little Rascal’s eyes widened, drooling as he lunged again. He wouldn’t mind another wrestling match.
The maiden retreated swiftly. In front of so many witnesses, she refused to let this brat drag her into another undignified brawl.
Swish! Brilliant light erupted beside her ear as a crystalline radiance formed a barrier, halting Little Rascal’s advance.
“That earring seems better than last time—refined by a supreme expert, infused with divine power,” Little Rascal muttered, his excitement growing as he pushed forward.
Boom! His fist struck, golden symbols flooding the air, piercing the barrier. With ten heavenly passages, nothing could stop him.
“Ferocious beast, yield!” The holy terror howled, unleashing the Kun Peng treasure technique. Gale winds roared, divine feathers blotting out the sky.
“Truly remarkable!” Finally, the elder beside her spoke. He stepped forward, palm outstretched, divine resonance rumbling like the dawn of creation. Mist surged, light soaring.
Boom! The collision shook heaven and earth. Golden ripples spread visibly, leveling hills, trees, and boulders in their path.
“My stew!” Little Rascal yelped, shielding a patch of land from destruction.
The distant crowd shuddered, grateful for their distance—any closer, and they’d have been reduced to bloody paste.
Just how terrifying was this power?
The elder was unfathomable—standing there yet seeming to transcend the Void God Realm itself.
“Are you her kin?” Little Rascal eyed him warily.
“Yes,” the elder nodded.
“But you don’t seem like a ferocious beast.” Little Rascal scratched his head. An elder beast should exude racial majesty, yet he sensed only tranquility.
“Brat, mind your tongue!” the elder scolded.
“Whatever! Big ferocious beast, let’s go again!” Little Rascal charged, thrilled by the challenge.
Hearing the title, the elder’s beard bristled.
Boom! The battle erupted anew. The brat howled with glee, his every strike earth-shaking, his power despair-inducing.
The elder soon struggled. The child’s strength was overwhelming, his arms aching under the assault.
“Ah! Those bracers are treasures—imbued with divine essence. No wonder you’re holding up!” Little Rascal realized. The elder had only opened nine heavenly passages.
Ten was the realm of supremacy—unstoppable once fully grown.
“Stop! I have words for you,” the elder demanded.
“Give me the bracers!” Little Rascal pressed the attack.
With a roar, a purple Suan Ni materialized, lightning engulfing the elder, sending him flying with singed hair.
“Enough! I came for a purpose, not to brawl!” the elder thundered, his aura turning godly.
Yet the brat ignored him, fixated on the bracers, attacking relentlessly.
“Insolence!” The elder’s voice boomed like thunder, shaking the world.
“You’re the insolent one!” Little Rascal retorted, unstoppable in his frenzy.
The crowd was stunned. The maiden gaped—did this brat truly not recognize her grandfather’s status?
Boom! The elder was flipped onto his back, cratering the ground.
“Grandfather!” the maiden cried. Never had she seen him so humiliated.
“Give me the bracers!” Little Rascal pounced again.
The elder roared, divine runes erupting as he flung the brat aside, enraged beyond measure.
The spectators trembled. Was this elder truly a god?
Unfazed, Little Rascal conjured a golden hand, yanking the elder’s collar and punching him square in the eye.
Thud! The elder staggered, his face swelling.
“Big ferocious beast, hand them over!” The brat bounded around like a monkey, relentless.
The crowd stood petrified. The elder’s identity was surely terrifying—a supreme being from the divine mountains, possibly even a deity!
Yet the brat fought on, undaunted.
“Brat, cease! I bring great karma and opportunity!” the elder bellowed.
Little Rascal paused—only to repeat, “Give me the bracers!”
“Do you know their origin? Dare you take them?” the elder challenged.
“What origin?”
“They belong to a deity! Still want them?”
The brat’s eyes bulged, momentarily speechless.
“Scared now?” the elder sneered.
“Give me the bracers!” Little Rascal howled, redoubling his assault.
Thud! The elder’s other eye blackened.
“Grandfather, let me handle this!” the maiden intervened, unable to watch further.
“Come at me, ferocious beast!” Little Rascal charged, breaking through her defenses and grabbing her arm, ready to wrestle once more.
“This brat!” the elder fumed.
The maiden gnashed her teeth, utterly incensed.
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